RWBY: Beacon Company
by Allard-Liao
Summary: Mercenaries are a part of daily life in the Inner Sphere. And Beacon Company, though relatively small, is one of the best. Follow their adventures as they help stem the tide of the Word of Blake. Rated T for now.
1. Red Trailer

Independence, Fronc Reaches

February 1, 3076

A -10K _Panther_ painted in a bizarre mix of lavender and lime green stripes, that refused to yield their vibrancy to the clouds of swirling dust surrounding the 'Mech, stomped along the volcanic rock, followed by a similarly-painted -1A1 _Charger_ and flanked by a -3F _Hatchetman_ modified to use a sword instead of its trademark axe. Trailing behind the 'Mechs was a battered Heavy 'Mech Recovery Vehicle.

The _Panther_ 's pilot shook his head and keyed his radio. "Joanes, pick up the damn pace. We have to wait for you, you don't get paid. And I sure as Hell don't want to go looking for you in this sandstorm."

The reply came fast and harsh. "Maybe if you paid for repair parts for this hunk of junk instead of focusing on your 'pride and joy,' I'd be able to push it beyond 50 kph." There was a pause. "Also, why can't you pronounce my name right? It's–"

"Aw, shaddup, ya lousy tread-head. None of us gon' git paid if you can't get our booty out of this shithole. And if none of us git paid, none of us can get repair parts. So shut yer trap and keep driving." She may have been crass, but Carrol Ford was kept on the payroll due to being one of the most proficient _Charger_ pilots anywhere in the Periphery.

The last member of their band had no words to say, for she could not speak. Instead, the _Hatchetman_ 's pilot manipulated her 'Mech's arm to perform an actual facepalm. Her disapproval was quite clear.

"Can it, all of you. We've got a mission to do and–" He was interrupted by his secondary screen bleeping out the news of a hostile radar contact. "Hold up. Looks like we've got some goody-two-shoes wanting to break up our party. Just one _Firestarter_ , though. Should be a piece of cake. Carrol, Neo, flank around and hit this crasher from the sides. Get in their face."

A green acknowledgement light from the mute flashed on his console, and he watched her through his external camera. She swung her 'Mech's arms forward, ignited her jump jets, sending the _Hatchetman_ flying backward, and disappeared into the sandstorm. For the umpteenth time, he wondered how she could do that but knew that he would never get an answer.

The commander shoved the throttle stick of his _Panther_ all the way forward, bringing the old and oft-(and sometimes poorly) repaired war machine to a trundling top speed of fifty nine kilometers per hour. He glanced at the radar display and noted the positions of his lance-mates. "Carrol, you're pushin' too far ahead. Throttle down and wait for Neo."

"Yer being par'noid. It's just a _Firestarter_. What's the wors' it–" The radio signal cut out in a burst of static.

"Dammit, Carrol. What's going on?" He overrode some of the safeties on his 'Mech's fusion core to coax a little more speed out of it. "Neo? Do you have eyes on Ford?"

A red light flashed on his console. _Nope._

"The bogey?"

The light flashed again. _Nope_.

"Goddammit. Regroup on the truck. We're continuing on to the objective." As the _Firestarter_ had disappeared from his sensors, that seemed like a prudent decision. Besides, with the loss of Carrol and her near-useless _Charger_ , they only had to split the money and spare parts between two good pilots and 'Mechs.

Her green acknowledgement light winked on, and the two 'Mechs reunited near the Recovery Vehicle. They traveled in silence for the next few minutes. Then an orange light on his console blinked twice. _We've got company_.

His radar showed an intermittent signal about seven hundred meters behind them. It was the _Firestarter_. "Damn it. Joanes, keep going. We'll catch up after we deal with this cur."

"Are you crazy?! I'm a sitting duck!"

"You want to help us fight a 'Mech?"

"…You son of a–"

The _Panther_ pilot shut off the radio and chuckled. "Neo, hit this bugger from the right. I'll go left."

A green acknowledgement light, and her _Hatchetman_ disappeared into the storm.

He kept his eyes on the readout, tracking the _Firestarter_ as he approached. That set off an alarm bell in his head. If he could find the enemy on his radar, then he was plainly visible to the enemy, and the _Firestarter_ had more than enough speed to leave both the _Panther_ and the _Hatchetman_ in the dust.

At half a kilometer, his radar was able to return that the _Firestarter_ was an FS9-O Omnimech version, matching the weight of Neo's _Hatchetman_ and possibly bearing greater firepower than both 'Mechs combined. The fact that it still just stood there as though its pilot were unaware of his presence set off more alarm bells.

When the range dropped to 350 meters, he stopped and took aim with his PPC, intending to take off the _Firestarter_ 's head with the first shot. That was when it started moving. It ducked out of the way of the particle beam and charged his _Panther_. The distance between them dropped way too fast, and the heavier 'Mech was upon him before his PPC could recharge. Two staccato bursts of machine gun fire bit into the _Panther_ 's right arm before the _Firestarter_ ran by, a blade held in its left hand scything through the damaged radiation-treated steel and cubic boron nitride layers of the armor and the endomorphic steel bones of the arm, sending the limb spiraling away.

While he was able to counter the corresponding loss of balance, the loss of more than half of his maximum firepower was a greater blow. Even so, he was not going out without a fight. He turned the _Panther_ around as quickly as he could and, as soon as he had a lock, triggered his Telos-4 SRM rack. As the missiles pock-marked armor on the _Firestarter_ ,he was able to get a better look at it.

Most notably, the blade grasped in the enemy's left fist was shaped like a large scythe, complete with a cosmetic "handle" extending down about three or so meters below the hand, and it had enough cables running from the arm to the blade that it had to be a vibroblade. What seemed to be the port of a large laser jutted out from the left side of the 'Mech's chest, while the machine guns he already knew about were both mounted on the right wrist. Then there was the paint job. The cowl was painted bright red, as were several other sections of the front and all that he could see of the back of the 'Mech, while the "face" and hands were painted a pale pink and every other part of the _Firestarter_ was painted black.

Then it moved again, and his last view was that silver vibroblade tearing through the air toward his cockpit.


	2. White Trailer

Grimmsdottir Concert Hall, Tharkad City

Tharkad, Lyran Alliance

March 4, 3076

A heavily accented voice spoke over the speakers. "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Weiss Schnee."

The heiress to the Schnee Mining Consortium, clothed in a pale blue-white long-sleeved blouse whose cuffs flared out with matching skirt and knee-high boots and wearing her unusually-early silver-white hair in a ponytail shifted to the side, stepped into the spotlight's beam and looked around the hall, taking in the large number of people who had come to see her perform. _I don't know why. I'm not that good._

Then the slow piano melody began, and Weiss took in a deep breath to calm her nerves. When the right note arrived, she closed her eyes and joined in.

Mirror, tell me something. Tell me who's the loneliest of all.

As she sang, part of her mind drifted back to a recent duel her father had arranged to test her skills.

* * *

Weiss checked the fit of her armor while her father's technicians maneuvered each piece into place. When the chest-plate pinched, she let out an indignant, "Hey! Be more careful, you dolt!"

"Sorry, ma'am."

"Hmph. Just make sure it doesn't happen, again, Perry."

In truth, her irritability had a different source. Her opponent had said he needed to change suits due to a mechanical failure, but he never said what his backup armor was.

"Ma'am? Your helmet."

Weiss stared at the carved metal and ferro-glass, the mirror-polished visor reflecting her perfect visage. The helmet, itself, was superficially visually similar to that of the Blakist Tengu battlesuit in that it had fin-like protrusions on the sides and top, but the similarities ended there. Where the Tengu was hard edges and harsh lines, Weiss' helmet was built of graceful, flowing curves. The only hard edges on the helm were in the tiara-like decoration around the brow fashioned after the Schnee family's snowflake crest. That, and a color scheme of white with pale blue highlights, earned Weiss' armor its unofficial name: Ice Queen.

* * *

Mirror, tell me something. Tell me who's the loneliest of all.

* * *

Weiss strapped her custom-crafted vibro-rapier to her hip and walked out into the arena. When she caught sight of her opponent, she blanched.

He was using a suit of Clan-made Gnome battlearmor. It was twice as massive as her Ice Queen and possessed more than enough firepower to obliterate her in a single volley. _When this is over, my father is going to have a very serious 'talk' with someone._

For now, however, as the Gnome raised its laser arm in her direction, she had to focus on surviving. She turned to her right and back-flipped to her left to throw off the suit's aim, the laser turning a line of sand to glass while two short-ranged missiles sailed through the space her torso had occupied.

* * *

Fear of, what's inside me. Tell me can a heart, be turned, to stone?

* * *

She drew the sword, her suit's armored glove pushing the vibroblade's power connections into place, and the weapon's menacing hum reached her ears. She charged forward, her opening stab glancing off his chest-plate as he turned to the side. Several more slashes followed, focused on the right side where the laser was mounted to keep it from being brought into play. Each slice carved new furrows in the thick armor of her opponent.

Weiss slipped around to the other side and slashed twice more before jumping over her foe, her suit's mounted support laser adding a small, glowing ragged scar to the cuts her blade left. That was when she miscalculated.

Her opponent swung his suit's laser in a wide swath, turning more sand to glass, but she hopped over the beam. When she came back down, the Gnome's fist was there to meet her. The heavy battle claw crashed into her helmet with what felt like the force of a train, sending her tumbling head over heels.

She must have blacked out for a moment, for her next view was that of sand through her broken visor, the latter flecked with blood. Her blood, she realized as a small stream of the coppery-tasting fluid dripped over her lips when she pushed herself to her feet.

Standing straight in defiance, she raised her sword and overrode the targeting safeties of her LRMs, ready to reengage.

* * *

Mirror, mirror, what's behind you? Save me from the things I see! I can keep it from the world. Why won't you let me hide from me?

* * *

Her opponent aimed the laser at her and fired, but her sword was placed between her armor and the beam. The reflective materials it was forged from allowed it to scatter the laser beam until it could do no damage.

Weiss fired a missile at each knee of her foe, using the smoke to cover her charge. When she reached the Gnome, she thrust her blade, the vibro technology allowing it to easily pierce the laser's housing and disable the weapon.

* * *

Mirror, mirror, tell me something. Who's the loneliest of all?

* * *

She jumped onto her foe's back, used the mechanical jump booster's full power to leap more than six meters further, and blasted one of the steel rafters; for her plan to work, she needed a platform. As the girder collapsed on one end, she spun herself around and coiled her legs. _Wait for it, wait for it. Now!_

* * *

I'm the loneliest of all.

* * *

The instant her feet made contact, she kicked off and aimed her blade at the armor covering the Gnome's power cell. Feeling the blow connect, she used the momentum of her dive to pull out the blade and pirouette into a three-point landing in front of him. And then the power cell exploded.

* * *

Applause at the end of her performance brought her back to the present. Almost startled, she glanced around before realizing that the crowd was praising her, and she curtsied and walked back off-stage. Once out of sight, she reached up to feel the scar that she refused to cover with makeup, keeping it open as a reminder of the life she had taken that day.


	3. Black Trailer

[Location Redacted]

Forever Fall Forest, Remnant

March 17, 3067

Blake walked out of the barracks to see her boss, mentor, and maybe even lover, Adam Taurus, glaring at a dropship ascending into the night sky, his vibro-katana held at his side, but still sheathed. She recognized the stance as his favored intimidation technique. "What's that about?"

He turned toward her, revealing the vaguely chevron-shaped white mask with elaborate red markings and thin eye-slits he always wore. "It's nothing. We need to get moving, and quickly. The train will be here at dawn."

She nodded and followed him to the hangar, but not before casting a last glance at the departing dropship. Emblazoned on its side appeared to be the thick outline of a stylized black heart cleft in twain by a broadsword with a glowing orb at the base of the blade.

* * *

March 18, 3067

The rising sun revealed the lush, vivid red foliage that gave the forest its name: Forever Fall. Also illuminated was a set of stark white and black battlearmor sitting on a rock, its "face" tilted toward the sky. The armor looked to have once been a _Raiden_ suit, but not anymore. Both of its arms ended in battle claws, and there were no other visible weapons.

Blake stared at Remnant's morning sky, contemplating the world's shattered moon and her similarly roiling emotions.

She was brought out of her musings when Adam walked up. "Blake, it's time."

She looked down, schooled her thoughts, and turned her gaze toward his armored form, an up-sized and otherwise heavily-modified _Asterion_ battlesuit. "Okay."

After getting off the rock, Blake joined Adam in a thirty two kilometer per hour sprint through the forest. A few minutes later, they reached their next NAV point, a cliff overlooking the primary Schnee Mining Consortium rail line on Remnant. Blocking or derailing the train wasn't an option, as the SMC trains were heavily-armored, high-speed battering rams meant to ensure that their cargoes made it from the mines to the spaceports quickly and intact. However, the big engine, heavy armor, and high cargo capacity combined to leave the trains rather bereft of armament, especially against airborne targets.

As the train approached, the pair of troopers hurtled themselves off the cliff and essentially skated down the leaf-covered rock face. Halfway down, they coiled their legs, and the mechanical jump boosters in their armors catapulted them tens of meters into the air. Their parafoil units engaged, carrying them down to the top of the train. Although unnecessary, Adam stabbed the blade of his vibroclaw, more of an oversized vibro-katana, really, into the roof to halt his movement. Blake simply landed, and they both took off across the train-top, vaulting the gap between the cars with ease.

In less than a minute, arrived at their next NAV point, a hatch in the roof of one of the forward cars. Adam slashed the lock and held the hatch open for Blake as they dropped inside. However, that was where the operation ceased running smoothly.

Adam pointed out that they had landed on a laser tripwire grid…in his own way. "Looks like we're gonna be doing this the hard way."

Around them, a dozen SMC AK-130 drones came online. Blake stood and readied her suit's vibroclaws. "Don't be so dramatic."

The sound of a round being chambered drew their attention to one of the Knights, which was pointed its arm-mounted support machine guns at them. "Intruders, power down and prepare to be detained."

Adam answered with a blast from his suit's LB-X autocannon that tore the drone apart.

To save on personnel costs, the SMC liked to deploy remote-operated drone suits. As she eviscerated a pair of drones that tried to sneak up on her, Blake scoffed, "Cheapskate amateurs." A drone would never be as good as a real soldier.

In short order, the pair of troopers ripped the nine remaining Knights to shreds, Adam using the prodigious strength of his heavy battlearmor to kick the last drone out the door at the front of the car. The new entrance revealed a flatbed car swarming with AK-130s.

Adam and Blake shared a look. "Let's do this." With that, their perfectly-synergized assembly line of death started back up.

It was all a blur to Blake as she whirled from one opponent to the next, often tag-teaming a group with Adam. In a couple of minutes, and a final blast from Adam's autocannon, they were in the clear and pushed forward.

When they broke into the next car, Adam lifted up the lid of one of the crates they found, revealing a number of volatile materials. "Perfect." He shut the crate and turned his horned helmet toward Blake. "Move up to the next car. I'll set the charges."

That caused Blake alarm; there were still innocent civilians on the train. "What about the crew members?"

He tilted his helmet, and she would swear that she could see his glare even through _Blush_ 's nigh-opaque visor. "What _about_ them?"

Blake's blood ran cold. She had watched Adam grow more and more brutal in his methods, but she had been sure he would draw the line at out-and-out murder.

Before she could voice her displeasure, a synthetic growl drew their attention to the back of the car, where they had entered. Lowering from the ceiling was an extremely large drone that looked like it had once been a suit of _Fenrir_ battlearmor. However, it was clear that the drone had traded speed and turret capacity for armor, while using infantry support weapons to ensure a minimal drop in firepower. Two laser barrels jutted out from its turret, while four smaller weapon barrels hung two to a side.

Adam stepped forward to engage the new drone, much to Blake's dismay. "Adam!"

Before either person could say anything more, the drone opened fire, a chain-fired quartet of man-portable plasma rifles deluging their position with white-hot molten blobs of plastic. The both of them were already on the move, though, and avoided the barrage. Knowing that they needed to bring their foe down quickly, Blake charged the drone, weaving between plasma blasts, and leaped, intending to exenterate its cranium with her vibroclaws.

Instead, it lunged forward, ramming its head into hers and sending her tumbling. It stepped forward to finish her off, but Adam was there, slashing at the drone to attract its operator's attention. He got it, and received a kick to the chest for his efforts, followed by a volley of plasma.

Blake, still rattled from the mechanized head butt, struggled to pull herself upright. A whirring sound drew her attention upwards, where the drone was preparing to drop most of its two-ton mass down onto her head. Before it could, Adam used the manipulator of his suit's cannon arm to grab her and yank her out of the way.

Regrouping at the forward doorway, and with her faculties fully recovered, Blake turned to Adam. "We need to get out of here!"

As though saying "Wish granted," the drone charged them, hitting with the force of a rampaging raxx and sending the duo crashing through the wall to land on the next car, also a flatbed. They looked up in time to see the drone clambering through the hole.

Adam slung his blade across his back and popped open one of the cargo containers on his armor. "Buy me some time."

Blake looked on, eyes widening in panic. "Are you sure?!"

"Do it!"

And she was off, dodging plasma and laser-fire along the way with ease. Hooking one set of her claws into her target's foreleg, she let momentum carry her into the air to drop down onto the drone's back. In a near frenzy, she tore at the plasma rifles until they were reduced to metallic confetti. Its turret swiveled toward her, and she back-flipped off of the drone. She could see the air above her ripple as two powerful (clearly Clan-grade) lasers burned parallel paths of ozone in it.

Her flips eventually brought her back to Adam's side. The drone's turret swung around to face them. "Move!"

* * *

As Blake darted off to safety, Adam drew his sword, his eyes scanning his foe and telling him where to place his blade to ensure the success of his plan. The drone's lasers spat death at him…and his chokuto was there, its mirror-polished blade reflecting the lethally-coherent light. When the discharge ended, he cackled to taunt the drone's operator for his or her ineffectiveness.

Showcasing their lack of training, the drone forwent more weapons fire for another charge…exactly as Adam wanted. When it was nearly on top of him, he struck, laying open its neck with a lightning-fast slash. Just as quickly, he stuffed a bundle of five two-hundred-kilogram pentaglycerin charges into the wound. Leaping backward, he used his heads-up display to trigger the explosives.

The front half of the drone simply disintegrated. Then its power cell suffered a sympathetic detonation that blew apart what was left. _In retrospect, a full kilogram of pentaglycerin maaay have been a bit…excessive_. Adam dismissed that thought. His foe was dead; that was all that mattered. He ran toward the front of the train to check on Blake.

Then his radio crackled. "Goodbye."

He looked up just in time to see her claws shear through the coupling between this car and the next one. Relieved of most of its trailers, the front of the train rapidly accelerated to over one hundred ninety kilometers per hour, leaving the section Adam was on far behind. And he could only watch.


End file.
